Until Arda Ends
by Gartabro
Summary: They met during the Watchful Peace.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

A/N: After a talk with a friend, I have been told to explain that elves can have more than one. If you go to Tolkiengateway and search 'essë', you'll get an explanation for the Calaquendi (the ones that live/used to live in Valinor).

Mirkwood elves, however, are a mix of several Moriquendi groups (the ones that never reached Valinor) and we don't know much about their naming conventions, but I think that they must be similar.

So, yeah, names (given by others) with annoying suffixes that belong to the OFC:

Elinbes = Elin (stars) + bess (wife).

Laegthêl = Laeg (green) + thêl (sister).

If at some point someone considers that we need a name list, just let me know.

x-x

The first time he noticed her was during a _Mereth Nuin Giliath_, during those years that would become known as the Watchful Peace. He never got a chance to speak with her that night and, while it had been centuries since the feast had honoured its name, he called her for weeks Elinbes in his mind.

The second time he saw her was after she crashed against him in a corridor. She quickly gathered her fabrics and apologized. She bowed her head slightly and continued her path past him, only to be stopped by him.

"Your Majesty?" she asked, throwing a quick look at the hand holding her by her arm. There was a slight frown in her face, revealing her annoyance.

"I'm tired of calling you Elinbes," he told her. "Which is your name?"

She narrowed her eye at him.

"Laeguireb, so you may stop using a name that it's not mine and that you have no right to use!" she answered before freeing herself and moving away from him. "With your permission, Your Majesty, I'll take my leave. I fear that there's work I have to do."

She bowed again and, without waiting his answer, she left.

x-x

"Don't be so quick in action, old friend," Úron advised to him later. "Both us have heard about what happened with Aredhel and Ëol."

"I have no plans on kidnapping her," Thranduil defended himself.

"I certainly hope that that's not the case!" said Úron. "But you must admit that there's an obsession there."

"Then, what do you propose?"

"How about you talk with her? And stop calling her Elin_bes_," he said with a glare. "Are you really _that_ surprised at her anger? She's not your wife, in case you haven't noticed."

"I didn't know her name!"

"Elinwen, Elineth, Elinel..." Úron paused. "Elinil! El-"

"Úron, I understand your point," Thranduil said, waving a hand in the hair to make him stop. "I had many options and choose the wrong one."

"Good. Now that you understand, what are you going to do?" asked Úron while he refilled their glasses.

Thranduil raised his glass and took a sip. He rested his back against the back of the chair and thought about it. He drank again from his glass. He tapped his fingers against his leg. He drank again.

"I guess it's a good thing that we're immortal," commented Úron, breaking the silence.

Thranduil threw a grape at him.

x-x

"That's some aggressive sewing," her brother told her from seat on the table.

"He had some nerve," muttered Laeguireb.

"Who had some nerve?" asked Lasson. "And what did he do to make that poor and innocent dress suffer your wrath?"

"Elinbes," she said, barely audible.

"I need you to repeat that, because I haven't heard you, Laegthêl."

His sister stopped her work and left her needle in a pincushion.

"I may or may have not yelled at our king for calling me Ellinbes," she told him. Her brother stared at her for a moment before answering.

"Well, I'm not going to say that he didn't deserve that yelling," he said.

"I yelled at the king," she said against the palm of her hands, covering her face.

"A King that had that yelling coming and probably now knows his mistake," said Lasson. "Relax."

"Mmmm..." was her answer.

Laeguireb observed the dress in her hands and sighed before picking the scissors. She started to unmake her previous work, flower by flower, until nothing was left except of some small holes from where her anger had resulted in tight stitches.

"Salvable?" asked Lasson.

She frowned a bit, assessing the problem, "I think so."

"Good," he took the dress from her and folded it. He left if on the table of her workroom and tugged at her arm until she rose. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"To practice some archery," he answered. "I don't think it's a good idea to leave you alone with these poor dresses and fabrics. Who knows what would happen to them?"

"Very funny. Do I have a choice?"

"No, not really."

"Let me change first, then. I'm not using a bow this while wearing a dress."

x-x

Like all members of the Elder Children, the inhabitants of the Woodland Realm could learn to fight regardless of their gender. However, since Greenwood the Great had become Mirkwood, knowing how to defend themselves had become a necessity for the Wood-elves.

Laeguireb nocked her last arrow and raised her bow. She took a deep breath and slowly released the air as she drew her bow. She released and the arrow flew to the other side of the range, embedding itself on the target.

"Still angry?" asked her brother while he nocked another arrow.

"I'm better."

There were other archers around them; some of them, like Laeguireb, were already waiting for the rest to finish their arrows. She took a look at her brother's quiver and counted ten arrows. She left her bow on the ground and sat down.

Without anything else to do in the meantime, she tried to untangle some knots in her dark hair while she waited for everyone else to finish.

"By the way," said her brother. "Remember that sponge cake that you make and it's delicious?"

"You want me to make you one?"

He nocked his last arrow, "Please?"

"Fine," she said with a laugh. "I'll prepare one this afternoon."

Lasson released the arrow and turned to look at her.

"You're the best sister and I love you more than anything else."

"Don't let Elwen hear you," she joked.

Someone clapped their hands three times, signalling that the last arrow had been shot. Laeguireb rose and followed everyone towards the end of the shooting range.

"Speaking of Elwen.. What if the three of us have dinner together?" she asked. "The cake can be the dessert, and you two can look at each other in longing."

Lasson rolled her eyes, "We're not like that."

"Perhaps not all the time, but you do that," she commented. "You have no idea of how much I'm looking forward the wedding."

Her brother grabbed one of his arrows and pulled, taking it out from the target. He put it back inside his quiver.

"Just a few months left," he said with a soft smile, looking at the bethroal ring on his finger.

Laeguireb pulled at her arrows, revising each one for damage before putting it on her quiver. Lasson, on the other hand, preferred to do it once he had pulled out all his arrows.

"Another round?" asked Laeguireb.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**A/N: HELLO, SINDARIN. (Also, feat. Dagorlad).**

A question came up while writing this chapter: should I use some Sindarin? After some consideration, I have decided that there will be Sindarin for the following reasons:

1. It helps with the relationship between characters and the interactions.

2. It's fun.

Also, my brain has taken twenty years to finally realize that Valar is a _Quenya_ word.

**Translations:**

_Aran lîn_ – My king.

_Duidhroth_ – My name for the Elvenking's Halls. If my basic grasp of Sindarin is right, it should mean something along the lines of "cave of the river(s)".

_Belain_ – Valar.

_Galu_ – Like 'ciao' or 'salut', works as 'hello' or 'goodbye'.

_Gwathel_ – Sister (but along the lines of sworn sister).

_Mae g'ovannen_ – Well met (informal).

_Mae l'ovannen, i aran lîn_ – Well met (formal), my king.

x-x

Laeguireb had been sleeping peacefully when the sound of someone knocking on her front door awoke her. It was an insistent knocking; it could even be described as nervous, like if the person on the other side of the door was in a hurry. Mentally cursing whoever was on the other side, Laeguireb got up and grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around herself; cold didn't truly bother an elf, but that didn't mean that she liked being away from the warm of her bed.

She opened the door and saw Miluiel, a fellow seamstress and with whom she shared a friendship as old as them.

"Miluiel," she said as a greeting. Miluiel's lips formed a tentative smile, hearing in her tone that, no matter how old their friendship was, she was going to suffer a painful death if she didn't have a good reason for interrupting her sleep.

"_Mae g'ovannen_, Laeg," greeted Miluiel. "I apologize for waking you up, I know that you planned on resting today and –"

"Miluiel…" warned Laeguireb, interrupting her friend's quick flow of words.

"I need your help," said Miluiel. "I have to help Inil with some of the preparations for tonight, but I also need to deliver some orders."

Like most Wood-Elves, Miluiel and Taugorn didn't have any intentions of allowing the Darkness that had settled over their forest to keep them from their happiness. Laeguireb couldn't be happier for them, she had even mentally screamed "at last!" when, a year ago, they had announced their engagement.

And once the sun settled, her friends would finally become husband and wife.

"How many?" asked Laeguireb.

"Only three, two of them I have to deliver in the same place; the last one is in the other extreme of the caves," she explained. "I'm unsure about having enough time to deliver the last one."

"Then I will help you, Miluiel," she said. "But I must change first, and eat something. Meanwhile, go get that order and meet me here."

"Thank you," said Miluiel, hugging her.

Miluiel arrived later, while she was eating some cheese and bread.

"It's open!" she yelled from her kitchen when she heard the knocking.

Her friend came in, the order she was to deliver wrapped in dark cloth.

"Again, I thank you," said Miluiel. She sat down on the table and left the parcel in front of her.

"Don't mention it," she tranquilized her. "Helping a friend is never a problem, especially if she's someone I see as a sister and happens to be hours away from her wedding."

Laeguireb finished eating and cleared the table from the rests of her breakfast.

"Now, how about you tell me where I have to take this? Will I risk getting lost?"She joked.

"Oh, no, don't worry about that," said Miluiel. "In fact, everyone in Duidhroth would be able to find their way to this place!"

"Would they?" said Laeguireb. "Where is it, then?"

"You must deliver this one to Galion, the King's butler," explained Miluiel. "It's a new robe for the King. Is something wrong?"

Laeguireb was eyeing the parcel as if it was the head of an orc. It was silly, really, thinking that she may crash again against the king. Their king was a busy elf, and the probabilities of them being anywhere near each other where practically non-existent. Even so, part of her feared some stroke of bad luck.

"Nothing," she told Miluiel. She took the parcel containing the robe. "I'll deliver this, don't you worry. I'll see you tonight, _gwathel_."

"_Galu_, then," said her friend, rising from her seat and walking towards the door.

The sound of the door closing was heard. Laeguireb looked at the parcel in her hands and sighed. Perhaps the Belain would be on her side this morning and she wouldn't meet the King.

x-x

Laeguireb smiled to herself. In the end, she had worried over nothing. The delivery had been made and she was on her way back to home. She would prepare her dress for the night, have lunch… In fact, if she hurried up she would have enough time to make lunch and then go eat it with her brother during his break!

She started to walk faster, barely paying attention to her surroundings while she decided what to cook. A general idea of the meal was starting to take shape on her mind when a hand dropped on her shoulder and made her stop. Her head moved to look at the owner of the hand, and her eyes widened when she noticed that the hand belonged to the king.

_Ai!_

She had been so deep buried in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed the king coming out from a path on her right. Quickly, she bowed her head in respect.

"_Mae l'ovannen, i aran lîn_," she said. "I apologize, I didn't notice you."

"No need to apologize, Laeguireb. In fact, I should be the one apologizing," he said, his hand leaving her shoulder. Her face must have showed her confusion at his statement, because then he added. "I gave you a name that I had no right give, and for that I apologize."

"Oh," was her answer. "It's fine, really. I also overreacted, just turned my back on you and left!"

"It seems, then, that both of us are at fault," said Thranduil.

"So it seems."

Silence fell between of them. The king didn't move, and the situation was becoming more ridiculous and uncomfortable by each moment that passed.

"_Aran lîn_," began Laeguireb. "I don't want to be rude, but I must be off."

"Of course," he turned around to leave in the same direction she had come from. Laeguireb took this as her cue to continue her path.

"Laeguireb," his voice called behind her. She turned to look at him.

"_Aran lîn_?"

"I consider that my fault that day was greater than yours," he told her. "In compensation, allow me to accompany you to your destination."

Laeguireb thought about it. On one hand, there wasn't a need for him to accompany her, and the idea of being escorted by her king could only be described as awkward. On the other hand, he was her king, and she had already been rude to him once (even though he had deserved it).

"As you wish, _aran lîn_," she answered.

x-x

Laeguireb closed the front door of her house, slightly confused. She hadn't thought it possible, but the need to punch his face from days ago hadn't make act of presence during their walk to her home.

Mostly, they had talked about their memories of the Woodland Realm, before the Shadow had settled in Amon Lanc and it was still called Greenwood. It had been beautiful then, they had agreed, before the trees had become sick and their trunks darkened.

She still remembered her parents _talan_ and playing in the forest without the fear of spiders. The mention of her parents had led Thranduil to ask about them.

"They died," she had told him. "My father fell in the battle of the Dagorlad, and years later the pain made my mother's spirit part from her body."

Thranduil had nodded, a shadow crossing his face as the memories of the war against Sauron returned to him. Many, too many, of the warriors that had followed King Oropher hadn't returned from the war and even the previous king had fallen.

In the following decades, Greenwood lost many others. The death of their husbands followed the newly widowed wives. Some recovered, but others decided to sail West, hoping to meet again with them in the Blessed Realm. The spirits of those that didn't recover or sail simply left their bodies.

Her thoughts moved away from the conversation. Laeguireb went to her kitchen and started to cook the meal for her and her brother.

x-x

**A/N:** So, yes, her parents are dead. In my defense, this is Tolkien, everyone's parents are either dead or a bird.


End file.
